A Trickle of Blood, A Drop of Pleasure
by Rocks Rock
Summary: He was more than the enigmatic new student they perceived him to be. Please R&R, Chapter 4 up.
1. Prologue

**A Trickle of Blood, A Drop of Pleasure.  
**

**author // **Yours truly, **Rocks Rock.**

**disclaimer // **I do **not** own Dougie Poynter (but I soon will), nor any of McFLY. However, I do own the OFC and the plot. None of this happened, _as far as I know_. Kthxbai.

* * *

**prologue**

_ "Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time."_  
**- Albert Camus**

I looked at him, his beautiful eyes the shade of a smoky grey. The fear which was etched into my eyes moments before was now nothing but a hollow feeling in my stomach. I was driven curious, all too curious, by the way he had acted at school before. And now I found out why.

_Curiosity killed the cat._

The quote rang into my head as he paced closer and closer towards me, grinning. The small flicker of light reflected his pearly-white teeth, almost blinding me by how bright they were.

I wanted to run away from where we were, but I didn't even know how I got here in the first place. I spotted the first possible exit and tried to make a run for it.

But before I knew it, he was already beside me looking in that seductive manner from underneath his eyelashes. I was supposed to be afraid, but I just stood there, numb, as he leaned into me slowly, his breath tickling the skin of my neck. My muscles were unable to move, but my brain was screaming at me to run for my life.

"Goodbye, Charley." I heard him whisper into my ear as I felt something sinking into my skin.

* * *

**A/N **: I know it's a rather short prologue, but PLEASE. READ && REVIEW! 


	2. Chapter I

**chapter one**

It was always the boring, uneventful life for the geek. I stay up all night studying for the lessons and exams for the next day while the "elites" stay up because of all the partying, the alcohol, the loud pumping music, the debaucheries and the like. It seems as if those things are only reserved for the ignorant, elite, popular people who only get their A's because they bribe their professors with money…or something else. Screw them stereotypical media.

Tonight was just one of those uneventful nights. I sat in my plastic folding chair, poring over the pieces of paper and the handouts given to me by my teachers. I was, once again, drowning in all the tasks I offered to do in order to get extra credit. Some might see me as the teacher's pet, but I was only doing it to please my parents.

"Charlotte?" I heard my mother shouting through the door. I tore my head away from the desk and checked the clock. Half-past eight, dinner time. "Coming." I rose up my seat somewhat abruptly. I've got my butt glued there for the past three hours and no one really wants to sit in an uncomfortable plastic chair for that amount of time, right?

I grabbed an old, worn-out jacket, put it on hastily and sped downstairs. Everyone was already there: mum, dad, and my older sister, Chelsea. Wow, she was **never** home on weekdays.

She broke into a smug grin as I sat next to her. The scenario? The black sheep sitting right next to the perfect lamb.

Chelsea was one of those "elites", even if she wasn't as rich as them. The reason was that she made friends with one of the Queen Bees of our high school and it just so happened that they kicked out a member of their group and needed another.

And Chelsea just had the right timing. And it just so happened that Hanna, the Queen Bee, apparently liked her (but not in _that_ kind of way) and so, voila, she became part of the Rich Bitches. And the rest was history.

I always hated being compared to Chelsea. How people described her as "pretty, sweet, popular, charismatic" and me as "silent, unattractive, nerdy" and all their synonyms. But I knew it was true. Chelsea was porcelain skinned, having long brown hair that could be the object of envy of even the shampoo commercial models. She was skinny, gorgeous, charismatic and, well…perfect.

And I was the exact opposite. The shadow of my popular, perfect older sister. As much as I hated it, I know I will never be the same as her.

I didn't even notice how little I ate when I left the table and ran towards my bedroom, with my mother calling out to me, and simultaneously locking the door as I slammed it shut.

* * *

I found myself once again walking the familiar, elaborately-decorated hallways of Brookeburgh. The school, at first sight, was extremely intimidating. With its' sprawling lawns, jade green marble floors, and the aura of grandeur it was emitting, I definitely knew that I won't be accepted here.

But due to _some_ circumstances, I became a full-fledged Brookeburgh student. Which I wasn't expecting at all.

I took my usual seat at the classroom, which was at the back row. Almost all of the students were there in the room, either flirting, writing things on the board, throwing paper at each other or just plain talking. The usual scene in my classroom, or probably in all the classrooms here.

However, for some reason, they ceased making noises. Out of curiosity, I looked over from my desk to see an elusive figure standing on the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and his lips turned down to a frown.

He was probably the closest thing I could compare to a god of beauty.

_To be continued._

**A/N : **I know it's pretty crap for a first chapter, but please forgive me. xD Reviews will absolutely help. ;)


	3. Chapter II

**A Trickle of Blood, A Drop of Pleasure**

**A/N** : Yay, it's already my Summer Vacation so I can probably update this story more often. Thank you mucho to all the kind reviewers. xD

**Chapitre Deux**

_A burning shack._

_A shadowy figure stepping from the flames._

_A sinister smile._

_And the velvet voice whispering the last words I was about to hear.  
_

"Charlotte Messing?" 

My train of disturbing thoughts was quickly broken by the droning voice of my English professor, Sir Heusen. I hesitantly rose up my seat, chewing on my inner lip nervously as I tried to recall what was happening before I was "daydreaming".

"Yes…sir?" I answered nervously, grabbing the edge of the armrest. He came closer to me, his deep blue eyes scrutinizing. I somewhat flinched at that action.

"Please answer my question." He said in a rather harsh tone. I cursed in my mind, which was definitely inaudible unless he was some kind of a mind reader or something. I didn't remember any query except for that one in Romeo and Juliet. Which I couldn't recall.

"Sir, can you please repeat your question?" My voice dropped at every word. He knit his grey eyebrows in frustration before he left the aisle where my chair was.

"All of you know perfectly well that I do not repeat my questions twice." He said sternly. All I could do was roll my eyes at him while his back was turned as I slowly sank on my uncomfortable, yet familiar wooden armchair.

"Ah yes. The new student," he paused, staring at the card in his hand before his eyes wandered to the back row, but definitely not in my seat. "Mr. Douglas Poynter, please stand up."

Everyone's heads turned around the moment he mentioned the words "new student". I was one of those. I had to admit that I was a bit interested and curious at the identity of the stranger from the doorway just a few moments ago. The gorgeous stranger who turned out to be my classmate.

"Verona." He answered simply, his voice smooth like flowing honey. Heusen gave him the approving nod and gestured him to sit down. Everyone's heads were still staring at him, but Heusen must've done something that made all of them stare at the blank board again.

Except for me.

My eyes wandered all over his visage, looking away from time to time so that he won't notice me staring at him. I couldn't believe that I would encounter someone as…beautiful as him in my entire life.

His skin was pale, the dark blue veins visible in some parts. His hair was dyed in a radical shade of purple with a bit of mahogany, messy but strangely attractive. There was a small lip ring at the corner of his bow-shaped lips. 

And his smoky grey eyes were…hypnotizing. I just couldn't look away, even if I knew that he was only a few seats away from where I was. And that soon, he'd catch me staring at him.

And soon was soon enough. His head whipped quickly, surveying the people around him. And his grey eyes met my wide, aquamarine ones.

We held eye contact for a few minutes, or even seconds, but it felt like an eternity to me. His expression didn't change: it was blank all throughout the "staring contest", but mine were as big as saucers. However, to my relief, he turned his head slowly and looked away. I didn't look at his direction after that, afraid that he'd catch me staring at him again.

I endured Mr. Heusen's droning for another forty-five minutes, before the bell rang signifying recess time.

And somehow, I couldn't help but to think about that Douglas Poynter as I rose up my seat. I glanced at him over my shoulder as I left the room: he was still sitting there, staring at the scenery from outside even if almost the whole class left the room already.

What a strange boy.

"He. Is. So. Hot."

"I can't believe he's in your class! I envy you!"

"I wonder who he is hanging out with at this time."

As I passed by the hallways, all the conversations seemed to revolve around him. The girls, and even the guys (but no…don't get me wrong. What they're talking about is **not **the same as the females.) 

And as I expected, Chelsea and her "friends" were talking about him as well. As their group passed by me, I tried to get a snippet of what they were talking about.

"I heard his next class was History." was all I could hear. I huffed slightly in disappointment, trying to leave the hallway but a hand was clasped tightly around my arm. I turned around and saw my perfect older sister staring down at me, that familiar smug smile on her face.

"Poynter's your classmate in English right?" She asked, her eyebrow raised. With her free hand, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. An action which I've grown to hate over the years we've spent together at home, and at school.

"Yeah." I answered, looking at the jade green floors…and her polished black shoes.

"And apparently, he's in your Music, Mathematics and Health class too." Her voice seemed unnaturally high as she said that. I knitted my eyebrows in frustration: I had…four classes with the elusive, and gorgeous, new kid. And knowing Chelsea…

"Right…"

"You know what you have to do, sweetie." Chelsea flashed her sickly sweet smile at me, before she left with Hanna and company, her shrill laughter echoing as the walked down the hallway like they owned the school. Of course, I **had **to follow her because God knows what she'll do to my already ruined reputation as the resident sore loser.

I walked towards the library, heavy Algebra and History books in hand, when I felt someone brush against my shoulder. I turned my head and saw _him_, his face curious and his penetrating grey eyes glowing. 

He had a strange smile on his lips, as if he finally found something that he was looking for.

"Your name is Charlotte right? Charlotte Messing?"


	4. Chapter III

**Chapitre Trois**

He seemed different from the boy I saw in the room just a few moments ago. Now, he was cheerful…and he was striking a conversation with the resident loser who goes by the name Charlotte Margaret Messing.

"It's Charley." I replied simply, staring at the set of heavy books I had with me. I heard him chuckle: it was sweet, and somewhat endearing. It also caused me to look up at his amused face, a gorgeous smile on his lips and his eyes reduced into slits.

"Alright then. Hello, Charlo—Charley." He said, his tone rather formal. I just nodded at the Poynter kid, before I walked somewhat briskly towards the library.

"Hey, wait!" He chased after me, his voice urgent. I whipped my head around to look at him, irritated. "What do you want?" I snapped, raising one of my eyebrows. He seemed relatively calm about my reaction, although I could see faint creases on his forehead.

"Can I…" he fidgeted, biting his inner lip. He looked adorable doing it, if I may say so myself. "Can I hang out with you because…y'know, I'm just new here so…" he trailed off, sounding hesitant and looking rather confused. While I was taken aback by his request.

Somebody as gorgeous as him, hanging out with somebody like me? It was unbelievable, even more so impossible. But the outrageous opportunity already presented itself; it was a take it or leave it situation.

"Are you really sure?" His smile grew wider, ever more charming. I had to hold my breath to keep myself from sighing dreamily at him. "Yeah, of course."

No choice then, he had to tag along with me.

"Alright…but introduce yourself first. I don't want myself hanging out with an enigmatic stranger." I tried to make it sound like a joke, but he seemed to take it seriously. The smile slowly faded from his face, and that blank expression from the classroom made its' return.

"I'm Dougie." He replied in a matter-of-factly tone. It was a rather weird name that obviously reminded me of a dog, but Douglas sounded like…Dog Lass. Which was weirder in my opinion, and I'm sorry to all the people named Douglas.

"Where are you from?"

"England."

"We_are _in England. And your English accent obviously makes it obvious that you _are_ from England."

"Yeah, I know."

"For all I know, you might be an alien from outer space or probably a vampire who escaped from Transylvania."

He glared at me, quick but still noticeable. And for a second there, I thought his eyes turned into a deep shade of red. I must be imagining things; vampires were my greatest fear next to…_something._

"Maybe I _am _a vampire. And I can't walk in the sun." He scoffed, caressing his dark blue hoodie as he pushed his way through the huge mass of students in the hallway.

"Where in England?" I shouted, trying to catch up with him. He rolled his eyes at me as he paused, probably thinking that I was too slow while walking. But he suddenly smiled at me as I quickly approached him. He smiled that charming smile that I now knew belonged only to him, even if we just met each other _properly _a few moments ago.

But basing from his actions since he had entered the classroom, I could deduce that he was an odd person, but strangely, I didn't find it annoying…not even one bit.

The walk towards the library took quite a long time, rather than the short walk I used to do every single school day. Maybe because now, I actually had someone I could talk to. It was not just me and my huge battalion of books.

I stepped aside as he pushed the library door open. It took me a few moments before I actually realized that we were inside my…well, you could call it my "sanctuary" (cue in the Hunchback of Notre Dame).

"So is this the place where you hang out all the time?" He muttered, his eyes surveying the surroundings. Obviously, only somebody like me would dare to come in and "chill out" here, because even for the studious of the studious…the academic atmosphere of the place was too much to handle.

"You could say that." I smiled softly as I grabbed a random copy of a book from the shelf. I quickly put it back in place when I read the title…something guide to Sex. Wow, I didn't know we had these kinds of books in our library.

I heard Dougie chuckling beside me as he took the book in the most delicate manner possible, rifling through the pages.

"Not interesting…not exciting enough…" He was murmuring as he skimmed through the contents of the small book. "This one doesn't even make sense…no one can get aroused with _that_…God, this really is for an amateur." He paused when he realized what he had said, and looked at me, his grin growing even wider when he saw my facial expression. "I do have an expertise for these things, you know." He winked, and as he did so, I felt my heart skip a beat.

All of a sudden, he stepped closer, so much closer than I ever dreamed of, as he brought his lips to my ear. His scent enveloped me like a cloud, and his unnaturally cold breath had tickled the sensitive skin of my neck. I just stood there, stiff, my body trying to relax as I was sandwiched between the bookshelf and Dougie's body. I could feel the heat rising up my cheeks as he came closer.

"Your reaction is priceless." He whispered, his voice strangely seductive to my ears. He pulled away, just in time before I could lose my breath due to his proximity. I stared at him, shocked, as he started giggling. Was I really that…stiff?

"Are you really like that? Or are you just making fun of me?" I asked him, trying to remain as calm and as normal as possible. He was smirking as he returned the book to the shelf, before he turned to face me. His smirk was dangerously attractive, and for some reason, it seemed to attract me like I was some magnet.

"Maybe a little bit of both." He answered, settling on the uncomfortable chair that was behind him. I followed suit, frowning as I scanned his face.

He was too gorgeous for his own good.

And for me, too.

_To be continued. . . _

**I like cookies.  
And REVIEWS. :)**


	5. Chapter IV

**Chapitre Quatre**

For the next few weeks, I found myself constantly blushing and stuttering whenever Dougie talked to me. Even if it was just his outline from the distance, I could feel my heartbeat doubling.

I was starting to think that those I'm developing a stupid crush on the gorgeous new student that everyone else had their eyes on, but I'm absolutely sure that I had no chance.

A lot of girls at school were much better-looking than me…and more charismatic…and more popular…and…

"CHARLES!"

I snapped out of my thoughts, turning my head towards Lilly: probably the only student that actually talks to me and treats me as her friend…except for Dougie, that is.

Those two shared something in common: They were both weird but in a good way.

"Uh, yeah?" I answered, rubbing the back of my head as I stared at her absent-mindedly. Lilly broke into a huge grin, before hitting me with the back of her arm.

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed with an unusual increase in volume. She laughed at me, rather boisterously, and then trotted off the hallway.

"See you in Music, Charles!" She called out still with that grin on her face. I couldn't help but to smile back, it was contagious.

Music.

Oh great; Poynter was there, too.

* * *

"Charley…"

I tried not to turn my head when Dougie whispered to me during an important, yet boring, lecture by Mr. Williams.

"Charlotte…"

"Charley Marge…"

I turned my head to him almost abruptly, an eyebrow raised as I surveyed his face. He had a mischievous smirk, his eyes brighter than usual.

"What?" I hissed at him. Dougie grinned for a brief moment, his eyes checking if the elderly teacher wasn't looking, and then turned back to me.

"You play an instrument?" He asked with his eyebrow raised, his delicate fingers fiddling with the strings of the bass guitar he brought.

I stared at the small triangle I was holding rather stupidly. I turned my head to him; he had a cheeky grin on his face.

"Yeah…a triangle." I answered, blushing slightly as his grin grew even wider.

"But it's a shape, right? How'd you—"

"The instrument, you idiot!" I hissed, lowering my volume just in case Mr. Williams' eyes decided to survey us here at the back. A low chuckle escaped from Dougie's lips, his eyes fixated on the silver triangle.

"I know, I know…" he answered, his eyes trailing on the polished dark blue guitar that was on his lap.

"Is that yours?" I asked, reaching out my hand to touch his guitar. His mischievous expression was replaced by something almost childish…something that screamed "Don't touch it!".

I quickly drew my hand away, and back again to holding that stupid triangle.

"Yeah, one of my babies right here." He smiled to himself, stroking his bass like it was some kind of precious thing for him. Alright, fact number one: Dougie is extremely passionate with music.

"I see…how long have you been playing?" He lifted his head and stared at me with his unnaturally cold grey eyes, a deadpan expression on his face.

It took him quite a few minutes to recover himself, then went back to stroking his bass. It was kind of disturbing, but it was bizarrely adorable to me. That boy is seriously doing something to wreck my brain.

"Quite a long time now." He murmured, a small smile lighting up his features. I just nodded unenthusiastically. He seemed to preoccupied with that instrument on his lap even if it wasn't "time to show off" yet.

"So, how long have you been playing the triangle?" I glared at him, that playful smirk on his face. He just wouldn't stop mocking me.

"Shut up."

* * *

"No, I won't go with you." I slammed my locker door, turning to the student who was the talk of the whole campus.

"Why not?" Dougie asked, a hand on his hip while the other was used for support on the lockers. He sounded a bit disappointed, coupled with frustration and embarrassment.

"Because…" I tried to wrack my brain for an excuse, but there was nothing I could find. "Because." He frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. And without any other word, Dougie turned and left the hallway.

Obviously, that was absolutely **not** a plausible reason.

Nice going, Charley. You just turned down the attractive new student whom your sister is deeply interested with and who never bothered to talk properly to anyone but you.

* * *

"Charles!"

I must've been staring into space and thinking about something because Lilly hit me with the back of her hand.

"Huh, what?"

"I asked you, what do you want? The orange one, or this icky-looking green thing!" She exclaimed, that silly grin still on her face. I opted for the safer choice, the orange thing. Whatever it was.

As I sat down on the lunch table, I can't help but to get a bit disturbed at Lilly"s face and smile. That kind of smile that screamed I-Know-What-You-Did-Last-Summer, or something.

"What's the matter with you, Lils?"

"Well, you see I saw you."

"What did I do now?" I raised an eyebrow at her, only to get a smirk that was similar to Dougie's, but not quite. She bent her head down, muttering in an urgent tone.

"That thing. Charles, he asked you out, didn't he?"

**to be continued. . .**

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